Children of Cabin 3
by DeteDjavola
Summary: World War 2 has ended. The Great Prophesy has been given to Chiron, the children of the Big Three have been declared too powerful, and people are starting to notice that they aren't reaching the age of sixteen. It's a scary time to be in cabin 3. It's not an AU, just a prequel.
1. Prologue: Postbellum

**To the people who've been reading my other stories, I'm sorry. This is a new story. Since I've been a serious writer's block when it comes to The Story Before the Beginning, as in I don't feel very happy with it anymore. As for Reincarnations…well, after MoA I have so many ideas flying around I just have to grab on to one and do something with it, and that is going to take some time. And after some history classes, I'm thinking of revisions to it too. Again, sorry. I hope you like this short story though. It's been in and out of my head since I first read The Lightning Thief, so I've been waiting long enough.**

**If anyone would like to correct my grammar, comment on my writing style to help me improve or point out any mistakes I made in the facts from the books, history, or from classic myths, please do. I would love it. If you stuck around as my Beta, even better. Thank you!**

**PJO and HoO do not belong to me. Only this idea does.**

* * *

Prologue: Postbellum

Chiron POV:

As they always are, this war between the gods was terrible. After a while Chiron had gotten used to a camp torn to pieces though. Grown used to seeing the children he raised dying at a quicker rate than at any other time. But in some ways this war was worse for him. Before the Civil War it had been easier. The Campers were quicker to choose to fight together, a united and more closely knit group than before war, against the Romans. This time they killed each other, not a common enemy. But even this war was easier than this last part; the part after it was all done.

The peace after war was something he never got used to. The part where he stood in front of Camp for lunch, a trivial thing, really, and told them how wonderful it was to have the war end and have them all back. Because in reality there weren't many half-bloods back from the War. Many died, it is true, and sad, but many others did not want to come back to a place they would have to share with those they fought with. They did not want to come back to a place that may remind them of those who are dead. Chiron understood, as he always did, but, by the gods, it hurt his heart to know that his children did not feel happy where they were safest and should be happiest. Hurt more than knowing that so many demigods died in this pointless war. War. Wasn't it always pointless? Gods, if only he knew. Then he would tell them so. Maybe then they would listen.

Chiron looked at the Campers in front of him, listening to his insignificant speech. He had memorized it long ago; all he ever changed was the times, the places, the people, the reasons. He didn't need to think about it. Didn't need to consider what he was saying. And honestly his audience didn't seem to be giving it anymore thought than he was. The younger ones had little idea what was going on. The older ones that hadn't gone to war didn't see it as their elder siblings did. And those few elder siblings had other things on their minds. But they were all somber. Yesterday was for celebrating the end of war. Today was for mourning the fact that it ever existed.

Three quarters of the campers were younger then thirteen. Their mortal parents could hardly take care of them with the men at war and the women with jobs when the children attracted monsters. Chiron couldn't blame them. Camp was always safer, the better choice. Those older than thirteen were mostly women. Women, not girls. War makes everyone grow. Like the boys that one day were fourteen and the next claimed they were men of eighteen. There were always volunteers from Camp, even when the rest of the world stopped offering its children for war willingly. The gods' passion for the War seeped through to their children too much. There were a few, though, that hadn't been driven crazy by it. He caught the eye of fifteen-year-old, a son of Zeus by the name of Nikolas. He was crying, most likely remembering a brother that died in the war. Or maybe a sister or a lover that pretended to be a man so as to go. There were too many of those too. Chiron wanted to ask which it was after the speech, but he didn't. Some people liked to grieve in peace. He put the son of Zeus out of his mind when he sat down to eat. He didn't think of him as he organized the Campers back into routine, a routine most of the younger ones had never experienced. He put him out of mind as worked and tried to amuse the youngest demigods. He put him out of mind until he met with the Oracle of Delphi. And then the face of a crying child of the Big Three haunted him for a long, long time.

* * *

"The Second World War is finally over and you're still gloomy."

The voice had startled Chiron. His arrow flew and hit the target a frustrating millimeter off from the center of the center. He huffed as a few of the daughters of Apollo in his Advanced Archery class chuckled quietly. He knew they would tell other Campers, which was annoying, but it brightened his day to know that at least they may gossip. That was progress from the last week of silent tears. Even if it was at his expense.

He turned to look at the speaker. Elizabeth, the Oracle of Delphi. She was smiling.

"Some of us are still grieving the war," he replied.

She looked at him with bright eyes. "Some of us should celebrate peace. There isn't much between war these days."

Chiron frowned. And here he was thinking that the Oracle might actually bring happy news. What a foolish thought. He turned to look at the head of the Apollo cabin. A girl of sixteen in a short, yellow, dress almost above her knees with the red hair of the Irish. Alana. "Take this class for me. I will be right back. I need to talk to Elizabeth," he told her. Alana curled her lip at Elizabeth but nodded. So Elizabeth was making friends. Wonderful.

"Come. Let's talk." He led her to the strawberry field. The sun warmed his lower half as they walked, the forest smelled so sweat nearby, and he enjoyed the sound of the satyrs sweat music nearby. It was undeniable that there was a joy in having the gods happy again. But Elizabeth brought him back to reality.

"There is something coming, not for a while, I think, but it's coming," she commented, almost casually. She was pretending though. It was bothering her, which worried Chiron even more.

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually less gloomy then I was before. Things are looking up. Maybe I don't want to ask you what is coming," said Chiron. But he did want to know. It was a dangerous thing, wanting to know the future. Some are driven insane and some only make things worse trying to prevent it. But he needed to know.

Elizabeth was unusually patient, waiting for Chiron's question. She knew that it was coming, even as he struggled not to ask. Chiron could just see it in her eyes.

That sad look on the Oracle's face, a look he saw I thousand times on a thousand other young, clear-sighted, maiden girls drove him to it. He had lived too long to not know how this will all play out. So he took a deep breath and asked.

"Oracle, what is to come?"

Elizabeth's eyes began to glow green and bright and he knew that this girl in front of him was no longer Elizabeth. She was much, much older. And as she spoke with her multi-layered voice, the face of a fifteen-year-old boy came rushing back into Chiron's mind. A son of Zeus, a child of the Big Three.

"_A half-blood of the eldest gods_

_Shall reach sixteen against all odds_

_And see the world in endless sleep,_

_The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap._

_A single choice shall end his days._

_Olympus to preserve or raze."_

Crying. The child was crying.

**Please comment and correct me where you think I need correcting. I enjoy that part a lot. Also, I might change things around later. I don't know. But I will add a chapter soon. This isn't going to be a long story. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Four

**Hope you like it. I won't be able to get another chapter up for a week or so. **

Four

Her mother had named her Adonia. Her father hadn't told her which Greek god he was. Maybe he didn't like her enough to tell her. Maybe he thought it would be obvious; he did have a tendency to smell like the ocean and carry around a trident. Either way, her mother thought the god she fell so desperately in love with must have been the beautiful Adonis himself. So she named their child after him.

Which is the first sign that her mother is in idiot that shouldn't have kept her those entire five years. The only way that name could have been worse was if she had actually been a daughter of Adonis. She wondered if her name would have been Poseidonia or something equally ridiculous had her mother known who her father was. The second sign was probably when she told her that her life would be so wonderful because she's a daughter of a god.

The best day of Adonia's and her mother's life was the day a satyr came to their door to take her to Camp Half-Blood. Her mother had been 19 when she had gotten pregnant and had to learn in the next five years the horrible consequences of having a child out of wedlock. It wasn't having to take care of the child, no; it was the challenges of finding a husband. Adonia's grandparents were the ones who tried to raise her. They fed her, clothed her, attempted to teach her. But then they died three weeks after Adonia's fourth birthday and within a year the money they had saved all their lives was almost all spent by her mother. New dresses were expensive, you see. And then old satyr by the name of Hollis came knocking on their door, offering to get rid of the annoying five-year-old who was too stupid to stay still or read. Of course, her mother never bothered to check to make sure that satyr wasn't going to hurt Adonia. She just packed her bags, said goodbye, and sent her on her way. Maybe she thought child of a god couldn't get kidnapped, who knows? Adonia didn't, and she didn't care either. Why should she care? Her life was better the way it was. Who wants a mother telling them what to do? She already had Chiron and Markus and all her other siblings trying to control her life.

Markus was the most annoying of all her siblings, and she met a cyclops once in the forest who tried to eat her. He was the bossiest, narcissistic, and sexist person in Camp, as far as she was concerned. He thought that because Adonia was a girl she shouldn't fight with her knives. What had he said? _Use them in the kitchen_. She had wanted to use them on him, but he was fifteen and she was nine and he was able to block her attacks too easily with his trident. Which was another reason he was annoying. A trident? He was just sucking up to Dad. She was watching him playing with it right now, sparing with an imaginary opponent. It kept banging up on the bunk beds. You'd think he'd get the message that there just wasn't enough room to spar in the cabin. But no, he just kept it up, destroying the beds and most likely his trident.

Not that it would matter if he ruined the beds. Soon enough there wouldn't really be a need for them. Her father and his brothers swore not to have any more children. They were too _powerful,_ apparently. They caused World War II or something. If you asked Adonia all the other cabins and a whole lot of other gods were to blame for the war too. The First World War was the spark that made the Second World War, and the gods pushed that one into existence and then drove both of them on with their blood thirst. But no one bothered to ask Adonia what she thought. She was the youngest in her cabin, and a girl, so obviously all she had to say was unimportant. Markus was the worst of them. He was so stupid.

"Adonia?" Markus asked. He had stopped ruining the furniture to walk over to her bed. She got to have a top bunk ever since Sonja died so he didn't get to lean down like he seemed to want to. He looked extremely out of breath. "Are you still giving me the silent treatment? You know that's just going to make this harder on the both of us."

She turned over on her side and looked him straight in the eye with the angriest look she could muster.

"I'm sorry, but I can't have you throwing knives at children of Zeus. Our cabins are still on probation after the War. None of us want to listen to another one of Chiron's speeches. Your just lucky Phineas didn't report you." Markus paused to give her a chance to speak, and when she didn't say anything he just kept talking, "It's not that I enjoy grounding you. But I have to stick to the rules I make, and you broke a rule so you had to be punished."

He was so full of it. He always tried to act older than fifteen. Or fifteen _and eleven months_ as he always pointed out. _Almost_ sixteen. Everyone was so excited about it. There hadn't been a half-blood child of the Big Three that reached sixteen since the end the War eight years ago and people were starting to think there's some curse on them. As if. She knew history well enough to know that it wasn't new when they died. Markus just wanted to seem special. He was always making himself more special then he was.

"Look, my shift babysitting you is going to be over in about half an hour. That's a whole half hour of silence. Don't you want to make being grounded more fun, not less fun?" Markus asked.

"You didn't ground Platon when he punched Orion in the face," said Adonia. She didn't stop glaring

"That's because I can't beat you up like I did him. You're a girl, and nine to boot." He smiled at being able to get her to talk, but his eyes showed the pain of bringing Platon up. That incident got the boy killed the next week. Adonia felt a little bad about it. "How about I let you off a day early if you pursue more feminine activities? Like art or something."

"No." Adonia flipped back onto her back and scowled at the ceiling.

"You're a girl. If –when! I meant when- you leave camp the outside world won't be as happy to see some crazy girl fighting with pants on instead of a skirt. You need get ready for the real world." Markus was lecturing again. How fun.

"Like we'll ever leave." Adonia knew that the gods wanted them to stay in camp. They were dangerous in the outside world. The few siblings she had that had outgrown the Camp, most who fought in the War, were too old to cause trouble.

Markus frowned. He started at Adonia for a while before he spoke again. He did that sometimes. He would talk nonstop forever then just stop talking.

"Fine," he sighed, "you and I are going to the beach. I'm handing you over to Jasmine early. I can't handle anymore of this. You two can stay there for the rest of the half hour. But then your going straight back to the cabin, you hear?"

Adonia nodded from the door she had run to second she had heard the words "going" and "beach". She was sick of the inside and she loved going to the beach. She turned to the door in case her excitement showed. But when she reached for the door Markus stopped her.

"Wait. There's something on the table. Was it there before? I swear it wasn't there before I started sparing. My trident was right next to that table!" he said. He picked up a blue envelop off the table. Adonia's heart skipped a beat and Markus looked like he was experiencing something similar. A blue envelop always meant one thing: a letter from Dad.

"Open it!" the words were out before she could stop herself, "I-I mean, whatever. Who cares about what Dad has to say? He probably just wants to tell us about some new kid because he broke the oath. We'll look later. Let's go to the beach."

But it was too late. Markus was already reading the letter.

"H-He wants… he wants to spend time with m-me." Markus's eyes were as wide as saucers, his shoulders were shaking, "He ca-can't for my birthday, but he c-can today…" He looked up at Adonia, as if asking her whether if it was all real.

"Did he used to do that with all his kids when they turned sixteen?" Adonia asked, trying to act casual and like she wasn't actually jealous out of her mind. She didn't think it was working.

"I don't – I don't know." Markus replied, looking back down at the letter. "I'll ask him. You go to the beach without me. He said to wait here."

Adonia hesitated before she ran out. She wanted to stay and say hello to her father, but she wasn't sure she could make herself leave like he'd probably wanted her to do once she saw him. He wanted to see the perfect Markus, not his nine-year-old daughter who didn't even have green eyes.

In Markus's dreams was she going to the beach. She loved it, sure, but she loved freedom more.

* * *

Mira was at the lake and, just as planned, she brought Jordan with her. Gods, Mira was wonderful. Adonia didn't ask her to spy outside the cabin to listen to when Adonia would be given a chance to escape, and yet here she was, probably having run off before she even had a chance to hear about the letter. And Jordan. If it wasn't for Mira's quick thinking she probably wouldn't have seen him for another three days, when her grounding was over.

She ran a little faster to get some speed and jumped into the lake, splashing everything around her. Mira, completely dry, laughed and jumped in too as Jordan sat there in shock, soaking wet. When he didn't make a move right away Adonia climbed out of the water and stood right over him.

"Well, don't you want to do something before I have to go back to being grounded?" She asked.

Jordan stared at her a moment before he smiled up at her. "How did you get away? I heard you were on lock down for a week!"

Adonia smiled. "I have my ways." She bent down to grab his arm to pull him into the water with her but he lay down and stuck his heels in the ground, doing his best to keep from entering the water again. But Adonia was strong. She pulled the boy in, feet first, and submerged him in the water.

She hadn't expected him to fight back though. As a son of Demeter he was known for running away, not throwing a punch. But somehow he had gotten a handful of mud into his hand as he was being dragged and was able to smear it right in her face. Which was gross and slimy as it dripped down her cheeks, tickling her, and right into her mouth. It tasted bitter. As she spit it out and was about throw her own mud at Jordan, she heard a laugh behind her. Mira. She gave Jordan a high five right over Adonia's head.

"Whose side are you on? You're my sister, you're supposed to be attacking him for doing that!" Adonia cried.

"Please. You deserve it. You cause all the fights you get into. And a whole lot of fights the rest of us get into!" Mira grinned, teasing her, "You know Markus had to punch Phineas in the gut yesterday? He was making fun of you. Now cabin one wants his head on a stick."

"Yeah, well Markus can take care of himself. He's about to turn _sixteen_, right? He's freaking _amazing_! Nothing can stand _his_ way!" Adonia muttered, losing all interest in wrestling with Jordan. She got up and out of the water, leaving the boy to sit in the water. Maybe she shouldn't have gotten him wet. He looked like he was shivering. Sometimes she forgot that other campers weren't always thrilled to be in water.

"Yeah. Markus can be a real jerk, huh? But he's our only brother…" Mira flinched a little. He hadn't always been their only brother. But she smiled again. "Lets go see what he's up to. I promise not to let you get caught."

"Naw. Let's not. He's having a meeting with Dad. He got the letter a little while ago in the cabin. It's because his birthday is coming up and all. It's so stupid." Adonia looked away to look at the path to the beach. She wanted to be in salt water, and Jasmine wasn't that good at locating things in water. Her talent was with earthquakes. She could destroy the entire Camp with one if she really tried. But in water Jasmine was only a little better then most Campers. It wouldn't be hard to avoid her. She was barely three steps away when Mira grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her around.

"Markus gets a visit from Dad?" Mira didn't look as mad as Adonia felt. Only shocked and awed. _Sometimes she's a better person then me_ thought Adonia.

"Wow!" Jordan cried, a big smile on his face, "Mom does that too, sometimes. But only with her favorite kids. Markus must be real special!"

Adonia walked over to the boy who was now standing behind Mira and shoved him.

"Shut up" she hissed, "He probably does that with all his kids." Jordan frowned, looking a little hurt. Adonia didn't feel bad about it.

Adonia started to run to toward the beach, but before she got anywhere she saw a satyr coming over from behind a tree, huffing and puffing from running from a ways off by the looks of it.

"Mira," he wheezed, "Adonia. Come. Markus…"

"Oh no. He must have noticed I was gone!" Adonia groaned

The satyr only shook his head. His face was scrunched up, looking upset. "Cabin one…"

_Oh gods. _Though Adonia

"Did he get in a fight? Did they want vengeance for Adonia's knives? What happen? _Where?_" Mira asked.

"Arena," he huffed as he sat himself down, "Really bad."

"Gods, gods, gods, gods." Adonia muttered as she took off running toward the arena. She wished her knives were with her so she could show the children of Zeus who was boss, but she had left them under her bed, far from any use.

When they entered the arena there was already a crowd surrounding Markus and Jasmine. The bloody, bloody Markus and the screaming, crying Jasmine. Mira ran over to them, the crowd making way for the two girls. Mira fell to her knees to cry with Jasmine as Adonia stood over them, as still as stone from shock and an inability to understand, exactly, what that spear through Markus's heart meant. The spear that everyone knew belonged Phineas, given to him by Zeus himself.

_The spear that was seized from him when he attacked Markus last week because Markus punched him in the face. Because he punched him the face to defend me. Who was the fool to give it back to him? _But it did not matter. Because than Jasmine's screams turned from pain to anger and the earth shook. The shaking got stronger as Jasmine stood and shook her self as she looked at the direction of the cabins.

And then screams of fear joined Jasmine's angry ones and though Adonia was not as talented with earthquakes as Jasmine was even she could tell when cabin one crumbled.

Even she could tell when three of Zeus's last children died under the weight of their own roof.

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